#soft play equipment company

[indoorplaygroundequipment]

Iplayco and Angry Birds have teamed up for an amazing interactive and Gamified Attraction.

Iplayco today announced a partnership with Rovio Entertainment for a new line of Angry Birds-themed interactive and gamified attractions, in a deal facilitated by Angry Birds’ global licensing agency IMG.

The engaging new attractions include the “Attack on Pig City” Ballistic Adventure, the “Protect Bird Village” a “Tag Active” experience, and the interactive multi-event “Angry Birds Inflatable bounce park”. 

These attractions feature a range of interactive, digital experiences as well as Media guided AV interaction and gamified elements. These one-of-a-kind attractions deliver unique ways for guests to enjoy the Angry Birds storyline firsthand. These attractions are now available worldwide, with more customizable offerings currently under development.

[doctor-dusk]

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

well, your second time on omegle definitely wasn't that bad.

warnings: male masturbation, nipple playing, exhibitionism and voyeurism.

word count: 2.4k

part. 1

well, everyone was hyped for part 2 and consequently me too lol, hope you enjoy it :3

your week passed slowly. torturously slowly. all you could think about when your mind was empty was him. you replayed the scene in your head like a movie. your favorite movie, actually.

‘’you've been having your head in the clouds lately,’’ your mother would say when you were caught too distracted. all you could do was smile and agree with her. you really were too distracted to think about anything other than alex.

in the nights that followed, you found yourself sighing between your sheets, vividly remembering every detail, every moan, every eager stroke, and you couldn’t wait to see him again. you found yourself asking too much if your parents were going out again on this friday, needing to contain your excitement as much as possible when your mother confirmed that they were going to a company party where your father worked.

‘’don't forget to take the trash out.’’ your mother told you for the second time as she walked to the door, your father was already waiting for her inside the car.

‘’yeah, don't worry. will you be back long?’’ you asked, but you weren't genuinely worried about whether they would be late, but rather how much time you would have alone.

‘’i don't know. i'll text you, but if it gets too late, don't forget to lock the doors and windows.’’ she said, giving you a brief kiss on the cheek, leaving the mark of her red lipstick like a soft tattoo on your skin.

‘’alright. bye, have fun!’’ you said waving excitedly at them, watching the car leave the garage, the anticipation running through you from the inside out, you just wanted to see the car disappearing from your field of vision so you could finally run to your room.

you left the door ajar, running to the kitchen just to take out the trash, and when you finally found yourself free, you ran back to your room.

your laptop was already on above your bed, the lights on the same way you had left them last friday. you looked at yourself in the mirror on your vanity, seeing if you looked presentable enough for him. you had even put on some mascara, it was almost pathetic to think that you weren't even hoping to want anyone to see your face.

but as you always told yourself, he was different.

you typed the website so quickly that you even got some letters wrong, but the search engine was equipped enough to already have the website saved in the search bar, since you had visited it once.

and of course, you covered your face again. you were no longer interested in talking to strangers and learning about their crazy addictions. now, you just wanted him.

you had been there for almost 40 minutes, jumping from conversation to conversation, hoping to find him, like in a cliché where you accidentally bump into your love interest and end up knocking your books to the floor. but here, as time passed, the uncertainty became greater than your hope.

did he lie? did something happen, did something unexpected prevent him from showing up tonight? did you go to the site too early? too late?

the questions ran like a carousel in your head as you watched the different people in different scenarios pass by like photographs on your laptop screen. you swallowed hard, thinking about giving up. maybe he can show up next friday. or maybe you should stay a little longer. just a little longer...

you stopped skipping conversations as the familiarity of the scene hit you. was it finally him?

you could only see from his chin down to part of his waist. this time, he was facing forward. last time he was sitting on his side. the angle was different, certainly. 

but oh, it could be him, it had to be him. you knew you had seen that fist clenched around that cock before.

you were silent for a while, clearing your throat before speaking.

‘’alex?’’ you asked, bringing your face a little closer to the screen. his hand stopped, and just like you, he also came closer to the screen, and now you could see his face.

‘’there you are.’’ he smiled warmly. ‘’i was waiting for you.’’

‘’and i was looking for you.’’ you answered, pulling the blanket off your face since you no longer needed to hide. ‘’i thought you wouldn't be here tonight.’’

‘’told you i’m here every friday. it's like going to church on sunday.’’ he joked, relaxing a little more in his chair, his toned muscles flexing a little as he found a comfortable position. ‘’is the angle okay for you? i can change it if you want.’’ he asked, adjusting the height of the camera a little.

‘’yeah, that's fine. as long as i can see you.’’ you suggested, seeing a little smirk sprouting on his lips.

‘’oh, i see. you seem to have been really looking forward to seeing me again, huh?’’ he deduced, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, his right hand resuming his slow and subtle ministrations. as always, you could only see the tip smeared with precum, but it was enough to make your body a little warmer.

‘’i'd be lying if i said no.’’ you bit your lip. something about him made you feel bolder, you didn't know exactly what.

‘’mhmm, that's what i thought. do you want to tell me how your week was? you know i like to hear your voice.’’ he suggested, starting a conversation so you could say something, his breathing was calm, as were the movements of his hand. you could tell that he liked to build the mood of the moment before intensifying it.

you summarized your week as much as possible, sparing some details because you weren't that interested in talking about your week when he was slowly masturbating in front of you, surprisingly attentive to what you were saying, humming in agreement without interrupting you. as much as talking about something mundane while he did this was unusual, you enjoyed it.

‘’it seemed like a pretty tiring week. i'm glad you're here, by the way. i was also looking forward to talking to you again.’’ he admitted, making you raise your eyebrows.

‘’you were?’’ you almost giggled, but you couldn't help it.

‘’oh, you know i was.’’ he said in a purr. ‘’i kind of like seeing you look at me like that. you're an excellent spectator.’’

you felt a knot in your stomach, like butterflies circling inside you like a whirlwind.

‘’can i see more?’’ you asked anxiously. he tilted his head, looking at you.

‘’wanna see more, baby?” he chuckled, his head falling back against the back of the chair as he pretended to think, his thumb ghosting on the tip, spreading the wetness around it in a lazy motion. ‘’let me see... do i get something in return?”

you thought for a moment. it was fair. whether you liked it or not, the only thing you showed him was your face. and deep down, you wanted to be seen by him, little by little.

‘’what do you want to see?’’ you asked, settling yourself in your bed.

‘’anything you want to show me.’’ he replied, his tongue ran over his lower lip, wetting it a little with saliva. ‘’but it's okay if you don't want to show me, i just thought it would make things more interesting.’’

you chuckled. as always respectful. well, he certainly deserves this.

you sat on the bed for a moment, out of his field of vision. you took off your shirt, keeping your black bra. you made the right choice, it accentuated the curve of your breasts, giving the impression that they were bigger. plus, there's a cute bow in the middle.

you lay back down on the bed, your almost bare torso on full display for him, his eyes going a little wider as a lewd smile appeared on his lips.

‘’boobs. i like it.’’ he said and you chuckled, he looked like a child in a candy store, like he wanted to grab you through the screen if he could, his grip on his cock getting stronger without him even controlling it.

‘’yeah? wanna see more?’’ you giggled, playing with the right strap of your bra, stretching it as much as you could to loosen it, the elastic hit your skin and it stung a bit, but it was worth it to see how his eyes darkened at the sight of you.

‘’hell, yes. show me your tits, babe. they must be as beautiful as your face.’’ he instigated you, shifting in his chair, his hard cock was more exposed to you now, the tip was almost red, the excitement was already starting to take over him.

you giggled, your hand ran up to your back, unclasping the bra with one swift motion, you were so used to it that it was no surprise when the straps became looser and you could let the piece slide down your arms, and your chest was finally bare for him to see.

‘’gorgeous.’’ he praised you, his eyes watching you like a prey, his hand almost twisting around his cock, pumping up and down. “play with them, can you do that for me, love?”

you nodded, moving your hand up, tracing a path from your belly to your torso, feeling the bones of your ribcage as you ran your fingers tortuously over your skin, getting close to your left breast, supporting the weight of your body on your right elbow, laying on your side.

your palm landed on your left breast, the contact made your skin shiver, your nipple automatically stiffened, perking up as you squeezed it softly, as if you were kneading bread dough. 

you watched his every reaction, his mouth agape, his breathing starting to get ragged as the strands of hair started to fall down on his forehead because now his hand was moving eagerly, stroking his cock faster, fucking his fist like a desperate. 

you moaned softly when your thumb and your index finger trapped your nipple, squeezing and twisting it, the sensitivity was practically at its peak, your panties were so wet that it was almost uncomfortable. you wanted to touch yourself, but you weren't ready to show him that, not yet.

“fuck, you're so pretty.” he panted, his voice was stained as he watched you giving slight slaps on your breast, making it bounce a bit. “i wish i could cum on those tits, cover you with me.” 

the mere thought already made you delirious, your two hands gripping your breasts tightly, your skin flushed right where your fingers pressed, like a blank canvas being painted red. 

“yeah, just like that, baby. so fucking beautiful, playing with your tits for me, you like that?” he asked you, pausing for a moment to spit on his own cock, the saliva sliding down the tip, down the rest of the length, and soon he moved his hand again, spreading it and making it slide easier. 

you nodded, your lip was trapped between your teeth, but soon you opened your mouth, adhering to his idea, bringing your fingers to your mouth, your tongue running along your digits to make them wet enough so you could spread saliva across your nipples, the wet feeling made everything better not only for you, but for him as well.

he panted desperately, nearing his climax and you wanted to keep your eyes very wide to see him, your boobs almost sticking to the screen of your laptop, as if you wanted to rub it in his face.

“god, i'm gonna-” he said, his sentence being replaced by a broken moan as he came, the jets of cum shooting out of his slit as he spasmed slightly, his hips jerking against his closed fist around the base. “oh, fucking hell…” he trembled, his body completely spent on his chair, just like the last time.

“are you okay?” you chuckled, moving back a little to get back to your starting position, supporting your body on your elbow. 

“yeah, yeah, just… fuck, give me a minute.” he gestured with his hand, he was clearly still recovering, his body was experiencing slight spasms as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. 

you gave him time to recover, he blinked a few times, taking a few deep breaths before settling back in his chair and looking back at the screen, widening his eyes a little.

“shit, can you believe it splashed a little on the screen? it even looks like it's on your face, how i wish.” he joked, cleaning the screen of his laptop with a clean tissue, looking for more places where there might be more residue. 

“i do believe.” you chuckled, watching him grab a small bottle of water from behind his laptop to take a few sips. you couldn't explain how wonderful it was to see him like that. 

“tell you what, girl... you wrecked me and i haven't even fucked you. how do you do that?" he laughed, like he didn't even believe it. it inflated your ego.

“i don't know. guess i'm just charming." you said modestly and he chuckled. you adjusted yourself in bed, the material of your panties was sticking to your pussy, your wetness was too sticky and slimy at this point. 

“what?” he asked curiously.

“nothing, i’m just… too wet.” you answered, watching his smile grow. 

“yeah? can i see it?” he asked eagerly, shifting in his chair and getting closer to the screen.

“nah.” you teased, watching him pout. 

“oh, c'mon, you can't just throw this at me like that. now i won't be able to sleep.” he spoke in a dramatic tone and you laughed. “you're a bad woman.”

“maybe next time?” you suggested. oh, of course you wanted a next time. and another, and another.

“ugh, such a bad woman. i don't think i’ll be able to wait until next friday.” he said, his playful dramatic tone still on, making you laugh again. it was true that he wanted to see every bit of you, but you were willing to make him wait. maybe beg for it.

he took his cell phone from the desk, unlocking it after entering the password, looking at the screen again.

“can i have your number? i definitely want a next time.” he asked politely.

“a private session, you say?" you raised your eyebrows, seeing him smile. you both knew very well where this was going. and you couldn't deny that you loved it.

“a private session, baby.”

[hd-junglebook]

Falling For It

Part 1

word count - 2,081

Humming under her breath, y/n waltzed to her last round of the night with a smile. The pediatric ward was finally quiet as the young patients slept. After the nonstop buzz of activity from the emergency rooms and worried families, y/n was ready for a breather.

As she passed the nurses station, her friend Destiney looked up from updating charts on the computer.

"Last hour, huh? Well, aren't you just flying through it?" she said with a smirk. She was well aware of y/n’s eagerness to go home.

“Smooth sailing from here,” y/n agreed, giving Destiney a grin. One more hour and her long awaited couch potato plans could begin.

She was planning a weekend of clubbing with her girlfriends at the bar downtown tomorrow night. Music, getting pretty and fruity cocktails awaited her outside of these cold walls.

y/n checked the time - only 30 minutes left in her shift. Just one more patient to check on before she could call it a night. Grabbing fresh gloves and vitals equipment, she made her way to the last room on her rotation.

Knocking gently before entering, she stepped inside. “Good evening Mr. Hughes, I’m y/n, the CNA on duty,” she introduced herself warmly to the young man sitting up in bed. “I just need to get your vitals and a blood sample if that’s alright.”

The brown-haired patient flashed her a charming smile. "Well Y/N. Lucky you," he said, a self-assured chuckle punctuating his words.

"Meeting someone like me doesn't happen every day," he quipped, his soft blue eyes meeting hers as he extended his arm, waiting for her to wrap the blood pressure cuff around it.

Y/N arched an eyebrow at Jack's confident demeanor, but she couldn't deny the charm that seemed to ooze from every pore of the young man. She nodded, playing along with his game.

"I'll try not to swoon, Mr. Hughes," she replied wryly, deftly velcroing the blood pressure cuff around his sculpted bicep. She couldn't help but notice how fit and strong he looked.

As the cuff inflated and she watched the gauge, y/n added casually, "So how's your pain by the way? Any headaches, dizziness, nausea? Or just a hard head keeping you comfortable?" Her no nonsense tone made it clear she wasn't here to get swept away by his antics.

"Oh there's no pain with you around to ease it," Jack replied smoothly, his voice like velvet. He ran a hand through his artfully mussed black hair. "But maybe a four outta ten. This hard head of mine has taken worse bumps on the ice and kept going."

Y/n maintained her professional composure, ignoring the way Jack's dark brown eyes seemed to gaze right through her. Clearing her throat, Y/n jotted a quick note, acutely aware of his eyes following her every move. The sharp antiseptic scent of the hospital couldn't mask his woodsy cologne.

"Well those other concussions must have rattled some sense into you then," she said. Clearly this patient was accustomed to wrapping girls around his finger with that smooth confidence of his.

Y/n made more small talk with Jack as she worked, carefully noting down his oxygen levels, temperature, pulse rate and blood pressure in his chart. Then she swiftly drew several vials of blood, applying a cottonball over the needle mark on his vein afterwards.

“All done, you did great, Mr. Hughes,” Y/N said with a smile, labeling the blood samples neatly to send to the lab. “Buzz if you need anything else tonight.” As she turned to leave, Jack called out to her.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, a playful glint in his eye. "You know, I wouldn't mind some company tonight. How about you and I grab a drink sometime?"

"While I'm flattered by the offer, I'll have to politely decline drinks, Mr. Hughes," she responded with a quirk of her lips. "Wouldn't want to jeopardize my sterling employee record over a date with a charmer like yourself. Now focus on healing that hard head of yours."

"Will do, gorgeous," Jack replied, "But when I get discharged from this joint, drinks are still on me if you change your mind."

"Goodnight, Mr. Hughes," Y/N said with an exaggerated eye roll, unable to keep a smile from her face as she exited. That man's persistence was almost enough to make her regret having to let him down.

Almost. With a last fond head shake at his antics, she headed to finish her charts, the image of his grinning face lingering in her mind.

…

Y/n headed home from the hospital. Jersey roads were packed to the brim but finally she made it home. The smell of caramel and pumpkins filled her nose as she kicked off her shoes by the front door before turning on the lights.

Light meows flowed through the hallways bringing a bug smile to her face. The brown tabby cat padded up to the entrance purring and rubbing against y/n’s legs.

After her long shift, y/n was relieved to finally pull into the driveway of her home. The narrow Jersey streets had been jammed as usual for this time of evening, but she didn't mind too much.

The sight of her house with its cheerful fall decorations by the front steps was welcome after a day on her feet at the hospital.

Pushing open the door, y/n breathed deep, enjoying the warm blend of caramel and pumpkin. The aroma made her smile. Fall was her favorite time of year.

Y/n kicked off her shoes, meows filled the hallway as her brown tabby cat came padding over to wind figure eights around her ankles. "Hey sweet boy," y/n murmured, reaching down to scritch under his chin. Hugo rumbled happily, nudging his head against her hand.

After providing Hugo with a fresh scoop of food, y/n poured herself a mug of hot chocolate and sank onto the living room sofa with a content sigh. The house was quiet except for the cat crunching his kibble and the occasional passing car outside.

Y/n was halfway through an episode of Game of Thrones when her phone suddenly vibrated with an incoming text. Then another. And another. With a soft groan, she grabbed the phone to check the influx of messages.

As expected, it was the group chat with her girlfriends blowing up. They always got extra excited leading up to one of their girls night.

"Just booked our table, bitches!" Angie had texted. "Meet at my place no later than 10:30, and yes y/n I mean you" Heather added. Lexi followed up insistently, "y/n don't forget the black top I wanted to borrow!" She quickly typed out a reassurance she hadn't forgotten about tonight or the black top she knew she wasn’t getting back.

…

As Y/N and her friends approached the club, the frigid air gnawed at their exposed skin, sending shivers down their spines. The lines outside stretched around the building, a testament to the club's popularity on a chilly night like this.

With each step, Y/N felt the chill seeping into her bones, the biting wind tugging at her clothing as they navigated the crowded streets.

"Come on, guys, just a little farther," Ang called out, her voice buoyant despite the cold as she navigated through the throng of people with ease. "We're almost there!"

Finally reaching the promoter line, Y/N watched as Ang worked her magic, effortlessly securing their entry into the club. As the bouncer scanned their IDs, she couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through her veins, the cold all but forgotten.

They were ushered in one by one, the bouncer's practiced eye scanning each of them before granting entry.

Y/N hurried inside, grateful to escape the biting cold that nipped at her legs, her breath forming puffs of vapor in the chilly air. As she stepped into the warmth of the club, the pulsating beat of the music washed over her, drowning out the winter chill and setting the stage for a night of excitement and adventure.

She made a beeline for the bar while her friends headed to the table, eager to start the night off with a buzz. A group of guys already occupied the bar, their boisterous laughter filling the air as they bantered back and forth.

Squeezing in next to them, Y/N caught the bartender's attention and ordered a lemon drop martini, her go-to choice for starting the night off right. As she waited for her drink, she couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside her.

The guys were deep in discussion about hockey, Y/N watched with interest as the bartender expertly prepared her drink, her eyes flicking between the group and the skilled mixologist behind the bar. Y/N raised her glass in a silent toast to the night ahead.

With a satisfied smile, she took a sip, letting the sweet tang of the cocktail wash over her palate as she settled in to enjoy the lively atmosphere of the club.

"So, you like hockey?” The guy at the bar turned towards Y/N with a wide grin. She was caught off guard by his sudden question. "Oh, uh, well, I don't really have a favorite team," she admitted with a sheepish laugh. "I mean, I enjoy watching games sometimes, but I'm not really die-hard about it."

The guy nodded, his smile widening. "That's cool, that's cool," he said, leaning casually against the bar. "I'm a player. I play in Canada, but my friends are on the Jersey devils."

Just then, Lexi bounded up beside Y/N, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she twirled her hair flirtatiously. "Hey there," she said, flashing the guy a dazzling smile. "I couldn't help but overhear you talking about hockey. I'm Lexi, by the way."

The guy's eyes lit up as he turned his attention to Lexi, his grin widening. "Hey, Lexi," he replied, extending his hand. "I'm Quinn. Nice to meet you." They exchanged pleasantries, Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at Lexi's boldness, grateful for the distraction from her own thoughts.

Lexi's sudden interjection caught Y/N off guard, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise at her friend's audacity. "Um, yeah, we have a table," she added, her tone a bit too eager as she subtly placed her hand on the guy's bicep.

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at Lexi's not-so-subtle attempt at flirting. It was classic Lexi, always boy-crazy and never one to shy away from making her intentions known.

The guy, Quinn, seemed taken aback by Lexi's forwardness but recovered quickly, a charming smile spreading across his face. "That sounds great," he replied, his gaze flicking between Y/N and Lexi. "We'd love to join you."

Y/N sighed inwardly, resigned to the fact that her night was about to get a lot more interesting with Lexi's antics in full swing. As they made their way back to the table, she couldn't help but shake her head at her friend's boldness.

…

The night wore on and the drinks flowed freely, Y/N felt the effects of the alcohol hit her harder than she expected. With the group of boys that had joined them, drinks were poured endlessly, laughter filling the air as they exchanged stories and shared jokes.

Quinn suggested that they all come to a Devils game next week while he was in Jersey. The other boys nodded in agreement, meanwhile, the girls exchanged knowing giggles.

When the venue lights eventually flickered on to signal the end of the evening, Quinn turned to Lexi "Hey, we should exchange numbers, for the game and all.” He asked a bit shyly, Lexi grinned before nodding eagerly as she fished her phone out of her purse, exchanging numbers with Quinn

Quinn and the guys said their farewells to Y/N and her friends. Amid plenty of smiles all around, plans were set for the upcoming hockey game. The girls excitedly piled into their Uber, eager chat filling the car. "Oh my gosh, Quinn was so cute!" Lexi gushed. "Right?" the others chorused, laughter and smiles all around.

"That Jesper was a total sweetheart.," Ang added. Y/N grinned, shaking her head affectionately at her lovestruck friends. Their lively banter continued as they reminisced over the fun night.

Y/N certainly enjoyed meeting Quinn's upbeat group, but her thoughts did stray for a moment to Jack from the hospital. Sprinkled with cheerful squeals whenever their favorite hockey team's recent match came up, the girls' bubbly conversation flowed freely the whole ride back.

…

Send ya girl some feedback. I feel like this part was so bad, hopefully you like it tho 😃

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Hello! I hope you've had a nice day:)

🤭I really love your works! Could you write an Astarion fic where the (GN) reader is equally as flirty as he is? For example, reader and Astarion being the only ones awake in the night and all in all- just flirty talk.

(Not implying anything but.. Hypothetically. Hypothetically speaking, you could sprinkle in some spicy stuff too)

I'm sorry if that's not your thing! Feel free to ignore this 🧡

Leave You Speechless

pairing : astarion x (gn) reader

summary : while you keep watch over camp, a boring job, astarion keeps you company by the fire

warnings : tiniest bit sexual towards the end but nothing NSFW, PG 13 at best.

a/n : i kinda love this, loved the idea, hope i did it justice.

Sparks flew from the wood of the fire, landing in front of your leather adorned feet. You hadn’t bothered to take off your equipment when you returned to camp, and the party seemed to take this as a sign that you wanted to be on watch for the night. You didn’t, of course, but who are you to deny your duty. Everyone else did it, your turn was inevitable. You just wished it wasn’t so boring. 

You picked at the fabric of your bedroll, fire crackling in the silence of the night. Maybe Halsin was awake? Or Astarion? Perhaps Gale was awake and he could keep your company with his magic.

“Well..don’t you look happy..” Your eyes flicker up to meet a pale face, red eyes creased in amusement, a small smirk playing at his lips. Of course he would be awake, only to annoy you. He takes no time to sit beside you, attentive to your features, his gaze never leaving your eyes.

 “Careful darling, if you keep your eyebrows creased so angrily, you’ll get wrinkles.” His comment only makes you scrunch your face up more, a slender finger poking at the wrinkle between your eyebrows. 

Without much thought you take your own finger and poke it in between his eyebrows, “You should take your own advice Astarion, clearly you’ve been angry a lot over your lifetime, aged quite poorly.” He scoffs, and for a moment he doesn’t say anything, speechless at your insult. 

“Please..I have no wrinkles, I cannot age , don’t be stupid.” He pulls his finger away from you, now feeling at his own face, clearly you’ve struck an insecurity. 

You feel your eyes roll at his antics, “ Cut it out with the dramatics, Astarion. I only tease. You should know how beautiful you are, I would expect as much from your vanity.” You throw a small piece of wood on the fire, looking away from him.

“Of course I know.. I just love the way it sounds coming from your lips,” You shoot him a look. You weren’t unfamiliar with his flirting, in fact it wasn’t the first night that he had managed to wriggle his way by your side. Though this night would surely be the same, he would flirt with you till the son came up and you would pretend not to enjoy his company. God forbid he ever found out how much you truly enjoyed being around him, let alone that your feelings for him were more than platonic. 

“Then perhaps I should compliment you more often then?” Astarion seems to be pulled towards you, shuffling closer to your side, intrigued by your willingness to comply with his flirtatiousness. “Oh..but then..I would never wanna inflate that unfortunate ego of yours..my love.” A soft poke on his nose, and his eyes widen, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. 

He huffs, “You tease too much. You’ll admit you’re in love with me soon enough.” 

“In love with you,” a scoff falls from your lips, and you're sure your annoyance sounds more superficial than you would’ve wished, “now you’ve started fabricating my feelings in your head? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were the one in love with me, not the other way around.”

“A shame your intelligence is rather lacking, or else you’d know better. You see through me transparently, darling.” He’s so close to you, a tease with intent to deceive and lower your guard, and you almost fall for it. 

You push him away with your elbow, only hard enough to get his face away from you, but his body stays close. “What is it that you're trying to gain here, Astarion?” The tone you carry your words with seems to jab into his skin, the way he recoils away from you makes you almost regret it.

“Ughh..a moment ago you were referring to me as ‘my love’ and now you speak my name in such a sullen tone,” his slender fingers move to grasp at your own, you don’t pull away though you wish you would, “why must you deny me?” 

He brings your hand up to his lip delicately, not wanting to startle you, as if you were a scared animal and you might run away at any moment. Though, you realized, that depiction might not be entirely untrue. You allowed it, breath hitching as his soft lips made contact with your knuckle, curving upwards in the gentlest of smiles. 

“There..much better,” another gentle kiss, to each and everyone of your knuckle, “I like you much better when you're not arguing with your infatuation.” 

“I like you much better when your mouth is occupied.”

“Perhaps we can find a way to occupy it then?” He’s staring up at you, pleading through his lashes, with your hand still limply held in his hand. He won’t let go, not even if you denied him now, he wouldn’t let go. His fingers are entangling themselves in yours, squeezing down. 

“You’re absurd.” 

“And you’re breathtaking...” It silences your voice completely, and his grip on your hand seems to tighten. 

The world around you seems to take a pause along with you, the wind ceases to blow, holding its breath alongside you. There is no wildlife trilling or chirping anymore, silencing themselves to offer Astarion and you a full stage to yourselves. Even the snores, soft and aggressive from either side of the camp, go silent. They’re being blocked out, your head filled with Astarions image, your ears filled with the sound of his breathing. And your eyes, occupied by the way his tongue pokes out to swipe against his bottom lip, the way his own eyes dart along your face to analyze your features, the way his hand twitches in your own when your lips puff out. 

In a moment of distracted, thoughtless boldness, too bold for your own good, fiendish desperation controlling your actions in full, your free hand moves to grasp onto the side of face to pull him in closer. He moves, under your control fully, pupils blown out in arousal. But then you hesitate, and his face becomes still in front of yours, lips hovering against each other. You let out a huff at your actions, disappointed in the way you must constantly fight against your desires, the air caught in your throat is released in a heavy sigh against his lips. 

“It’s not like you to be so undecided..” His breath is feverish and heavy, tickling against your skin, his lips brushing against your own with every syllable. He is pleading with his eyes, fingers twitching against your own once more, too excited to control his own movements. 

“Not like you to be so,” Before you can utter a rebuttal your words are cut short, Astarions lips finally connect to your own. Clearly he has grown impatient, and it shows in the way his fangs nip at your lips, begging for entrance. You allow it, his tongue passes your lips to wrestle with yours, and a whimper vibrates through him leaving your head spinning. If it wasn’t for his grip on you, you would’ve fallen over. 

He places one hand behind your body, using his own to push you down against your bedroll, without releasing your lips once. With hesitation he separates from you, breath heavy once more. Distracted, he doesn’t look at you, his fingers tracing along your waist until he meets the waistline of your leather pants.

“For once, darling, I would love to leave you speechless and not the other way around..allow me, won't you?” .” He smirks, looking up at you now with a mischievous glint in his eyes, fingers playing with the zipper of your pants. 

“Gods you’re annoying..” You shoot him a glare, though you doubt it’s very menacing judging by the way your breath hitches and your cheeks are absolutely flushed, he tugs at the waistband pulling your leather pants down to your mid thigh. 

But then you regain your edge, “Say please, and then maybe, I’ll allow it.” You place your hand back on his cheek, holding his face up, and the way he leans his cheek deeper into your hand almost makes you crumble again. 

“Please, darling, pretty please..let me touch you.”

“That’s very good, my love.” You try to hide the way your breath leaves your lips in a shaky wave as you nod for him to proceed. He wastes no time as your pants are suddenly pulled down and off, Astarion climbing back up your legs. 

His lips tug into a smile, lowering his head between your thighs, and you let out a whine as his teeth connect with the skin of your inner thigh. When he looks up to you, through the strands of his curls that have fallen in front of his face, a thin line of blood coats his lip. The way his tongue licks it away, sends a shiver through you.

And the look he gives you, worship heavy in his eyes, makes you aware of just how long this night is going to be for you. 

[muzzlemouths]

[CW: Death/implication of death]

The clock reads a quarter to midnight when Sun powers on. Too early. He isn’t meant to come online for another six hours, and the daycare itself won’t open for another hour after that. He promptly runs a scan to determine the reasoning behind his premature entrance and when it returns inconclusive he turns to Moon. It is his metaphorical toes he is stepping on by encroaching on the night as he is, after all.

It’s quiet. The kind of quiet that settles like dust. A quiet that makes one aware of the breath that stirs within their lungs or, in Sun’s case, the gentle whir of an internal fan that perpetually keeps his system from running itself into the ground. A quiet so frequently interrupted by the welcomed voice of his other half…and yet, nothing. His question goes unanswered, left to gather with the dust, and he is forced to proceed as though these strange happenings haven’t disrupted his entire morning routine.

A routine further disturbed upon having to remind himself for the second time already that it isn’t morning, he isn’t meant to be going through the start-up procedure to begin with, and he can’t be blamed for the corrupted sense of awareness he feels as a result. Sure, the lights are on, and his systems, too, return with normal results after a precautionary scan, but there is a discomfort to all of this scratching at the inner plating of his frame. Something is wrong wrong wrong.

“…Moon?”

His second attempt at communication yields no better results than the first, only a vague static answering the call, murmur-soft background noise, as though someone had plucked a phone from its receiver and then walked away. Frustrating is what it was. To ignore him was childish at best, but at worst, it was concerning. His relationship with Moon was reasonably amicable even on the longest of days, he worked better with Moon than without, so the absence was unusual as much as it was alarming.

Alone with his thoughts for the foreseeable future, Sun decides there is little point to sitting around in the midst of this confusion when he could be using the time to busy himself with more important tasks, such as tidying up all the apparent dust around here. Better yet, he can get a head-start in preparation for that day’s activities. Something to keep his mind from wandering into worrywart territory, at the very least.

An ache stemming at the tail of his exoskeleton twinges with particularly horrendous vengeance upon finally convincing his legs to move. He buries the vocalization of a wince and carries on across the carpeted room with little more than a brief mental note to mention the pain to a mechanic if it worsens by tomorrow. No use in wasting company time for what he’s sure is only the result of one or both of them landing wrong after receiving a hug from one of the daycare’s more excitable children (or several).

Still, it makes the process of retrieving a stray toy from the floor that much harder when he sees it lying in wait by the slide. If anything, bending down to reclaim the doll only exacerbates the ache until it grows into a proper sting, now difficult to ignore. Yet ignore it he does, to the best of his ability. There are things to do and he isn’t about to let a pinch of soreness slow him down now. No, sirree! He has play equipment to wipe down, craft supplies to ready, and–

and…

His hand stops just short of reaching the doll, long yellow fingers curling inward, against his palm which is painted with splotches of salt and pepper, as though a bottle of dully colored glitter glue had exploded across his fingers and hand. He straightens again and lifts his other hand, noting a similar stretch of television static, one that carries beyond his wrist up the length of his forearm in smeared blotches and specks like splattered paint in dirty snow hues.

Messy messy messy. What could Moon have gotten up to that resulted in such a mess? He’d have made a face, had he a nose to wrinkle in the first place.

Instead he allows for one small tut of disgust to escape his voice box before turning his attention back to the doll, taking note of the static that stains the carpet beside its head, and just beyond it, too; a trail made up of one scattered drop after another.

Ever curious, he knows not what to do besides follow it, hoping for an answer to the many questions burning through his system. Each continuous speck leads him in the direction of the exit, every patch of static more plentiful than the last, and as he allows the strange color to guide him forward he begins to question not only its existence, but why it all seems so familiar, as though he’s seen it somewhere before.

There is little time to mull it over. He arrives at the service desk where the trail ends abruptly, and Sun pauses with the toe of his slippers stood just an inch before a stray, black shoe that might have sent him stumbling face first into carpet had he not already been looking down. A shoe isn’t the most bizarre thing to lose in a daycare of all places, and he decides right away that it isn’t anything to worry over, just another item to drop into lost and found, but where there is a shoe there is bound to be someone missing it and, well…

Sun finds the answer he’s looking for just a few inches behind the service desk.

Face down and tucked in on themselves as they are, cloaked in the desk’s shadow, it’s impossible to tell anything about the person beyond their age, and even that is somewhat uncertain — though the size 9 shoe left behind offers a decent clue. This discovery does wonders to quell the anxiety in Sun’s chest. An adult was much easier to escort from the daycare, given the lack of parental contribution it necessitated, and it looked like this one was just sleeping! An odd place to go about it, sure — against the rules, most certainly — but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed with a purposeful tap to the ankle.

So, that’s exactly what he does. Bending dramatically at the knee, head swiveling to one side, Sun’s fingers dance as though he intends on tickling the trespasser awake before extending his index finger and tapping twice in quick succession against the exposed skin between their pant leg and sock. “Rise and shine, friend!” He chirps, “It’s time to head home now.”

He’d have preferred the tried-and-true method of rousing someone (that is, a gentle rock of the shoulders), but given that their guest was currently resting in the one area that Sun was not permitted entry to, he was forced to resort to more…creative measures. Unfortunately, this action does not yield the results he is hoping for.

“Friend?” Sun calls again, allowing his voice to raise a decibel from the polite mumble it had been before. The laughter that cuts from his voicebox is nervous and too loud on its own, his anxiety returning tenfold. The points of logic he had used to reassure himself before were now quickly dwindling with each passing second in which he received no response.

With his steps now admittedly growing frantic, Sun tiptoes around the desk to the other side, hoping for a better view of their comatose companion. What happens instead is an almost comical flailing of limbs as his slipper takes to an unseen puddle of static like it were a banana peel, resulting in a scramble to keep himself upright that only comes to an end when he braces against the nearest wall for support. The distraction is agitating, but short lived. A commotion like that would surely have awoken anyone, no matter how deep in slumber they were, and the continued lack of response does nothing to relieve Sun of the stress threatening to fry his circuits.

“Friend, this is n-no time for jokes!” He asserts, speaking at full volume, now, every word drenched in tense frustration. His gaze falls to the puddle of static soaking into the bottoms of his slippers, that twinge of recognition rearing its head once more. “I’m not in the mood for games, right now, so if you’re only pretending to sleep—” his hand comes away from the wall feeling wrong, the familiar sensation of sticky static blanketing his palm and crusting in the grooves between his joints as it further dries. His fingers curl into a loose fist long enough to observe the way each digit smears against his palm and leaves behind a tacky residue that he can feel, but not see.

He looks up. There, on the wall, two handprints interrupt the static. The first is larger, an obvious testament to the humbling misstep he’d only just finished recovering from, but the other…it was far smaller, surely left behind by the same stranger currently snoozing away beneath the desk, and it ran from the lightswitch down down down to the floor, where the accusing hand now rested just outside the desk’s shadow.

How strange, Sun thinks, tilting his head to get a better look. The way the static paints their skin, it almost looks like—

“You’re doing so well, dewdrop, just a moment longer and you’ll be right as rain again!” Sun gives the small hand intertwined with his own an encouraging squeeze as the other, equipped with an antiseptic wipe, dutifully dabs away at a scuffed knee. His young patient, having tripped and burned her skin along the carpet, is nothing less than a trooper as he cleans the static from the shallow wound. Not even a sniffle!

He tucks the wipe into the flat of his palm and trades it out for ointment, smearing a healthy dollop of it along the reddened surface before wiping his finger along the striping of his pants and reaching for a bandaid; Chica pink with pizzas on one side and cupcakes on the other.

“There, now. I’m sure that feels better already!”

Blood. Viscous, cold, pooling at his feet. On the walls, the carpet. His hands. Cherry red like a lollipop and twice as sticky…or so he’s told. Nothing a robot of his nature is meant to see or understand. His censors make sure of it. Rather than allow him to see things are they are, the incarnadine color is suppressed behind a layer of static, as if he won’t care to acknowledge it at all beyond its existence on scraped knees and split lips. As if he is meant to ignore the way it feels in its abundance, caked against his palms and festering between his open joints.

Messy, messy, messy. He feels dirtied beyond repair, filthy in a way that even a deep cleaning won’t fix. The wires in his stomach feel twisted, begging to come undone, shorting like sparklers against their ports and threatening to make short work of bringing him down. His screens are flooded with alerts that warn of an inevitable shut-down if he can’t manage to pull himself back together, but moving feels impossible, an insurmountable task. He can not think past the sensation of someone else’s life soaking into the cotton of his slippers.

And what of their guest? Sun can hardly get himself to look again, pleading with the matter of logic itself as he is forced to reckon with the knowledge that this is a rest they may never wake from. But he does look. He has to.

He wishes he hadn’t.

The brief glimpse he endures before looking anywhere else is more than enough. From this angle, the static – the blood – paints a grim picture. In spite of this, Sun finds himself circling the desk a second time and preparing to draw the body – the visitor – out from under the desk. It is a daunting task, but a necessary one, by Sun’s account. If there is nothing to be done in such a hopeless situation then, at the very least, he owes this stranger the dignity of recognition and an attempt. He can claim to have looked for a pulse. Even so, he hesitates.

There is not one to be found; Sun knows this. He knows painfully well from the static lingering on his silicone that it is already too late. Oil is warmed by the processors it fuels, and similarly, blood is meant to be hot. The soles of his slippers are cold. The pads of his fingers, against even the raging inferno of his overworked circuitry, are cold.

The body is cold.

He perseveres, regardless, dragging the stranger out from under the desk by a shaky grip on their ankle one inch at a time, pausing every few tugs to look away and regather his confidence, trying so, so hard to tune out the ever-constant music as it merrily sings through the speakers.

He begs the underlying silence. “Please have a pulse.” Tug. “Please don’t be cold.” Tug. “I don’t know what to do.” Tug. “I can’t do this alone.” Tug. “You have to wake up.” Tug. “Please.” Tug. “Please!” Tug. “Please, please, please, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseple—”

He knows this visitor. Not a friend, but not quite a stranger, either. His scanner attempts to process the identification of a man whose head is so thick with static that it returns as an error. His face is contorted grotesquely, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide with fear. They don’t look like they’re sleeping.

A security guard whose name fails to ping in his registry. Sun had spoken with him once, maybe twice before. He drank coffee by the mile and hardly stuck around long enough to do more than complain about the weather. Sun hadn’t been in a hurry to befriend the man, but he only wished the best for him. Squeezed a joke in where he could in an attempt to turn his frown upside-down. It had never worked before, but Sun was no quitter. Now he would never get the chance to try again.

“Focus, focus.” Sun carefully lowers the man’s foot back to the carpet again, choking on the sensation of bloodied clothes slipping through his fingers and resisting the urge to tear the rays straight out of his faceplate in response. He is inconsolably panicked and at a loss for what to do, two steps from outright laughing, the complete absurdity of the situation driving him to hysterics.

He needed to call security. He couldn’t call security. Security was–

Management. There were other employees that worked the night shift if Moon complaining about them making too much noise during naptime was anything to go by. If he sent out a general call for assistance surely someone would come and tell him what to do, even at this late hour. It was his best option. His only option.

“Don’t.”

The voice makes him jump clear out of his casings. He has half a mind to swear, but as it stands, Sun thinks the long divots he dragged into the service desk out of surprise are enough damage already. On top of everything else.

“Moon?” He whispers. “Nice of you to finally join us – and by us, I mean me and the deceased guest I discovered a moment ago. Do you have a clue what’s going on here?”

“Don’t?” Sun echoes, agitated, “Don’t what?”

“Don’t.”

If the tether keeping his sanity intact was fraying before, it’s now down to a single thread. “Why not?” He asks with great exhaustion, “Did you not hear me? This is an emergency! There is a dead body in the–”

“Call management.”

“I know.”

Silence answers. Despite having a hundred and one snarky retorts building in between each crackle and pop of his voice box, Sun has nothing to say to that. Nothing good, anyway. It takes nine steady ticks of the clock for him to recollect his thoughts.

“You…you know?” He stutters, “How could you…” but he doesn’t finish the question, and he doesn’t need to. Realization strikes him with an iron fist for the second time that day and it is no less kinder than the first. “Did… you do this?”

It’s Moon’s turn to go quiet.

That silence stretches on for what feels like hours to Sun, each passing second more agonizing than the last, until he starts to believe Moon had simply disappeared like before. He waits, and waits, and finally decides to interrupt the silence with a repeat of the question, despite already knowing the answer. Moon beats him to it.

The tired sigh that escapes Sun’s throat is thoroughly earned. “Well, it’s too late to figure something else out, I already sent out the emergency ping.”

“Not sure,” he says, and Sun can tell from his tone that it’s the truth. “Blurry. My head hurts.”

A sound like nothing he’s ever heard before tears itself from Moon’s voicebox. A growl, if he were to put a name to it.

“Get rid of it, then.” Moon insists through the noise, “Clean up, clean up.”

“It?” Sun gawks, “Moon, that – that’s a person. He has dignity, a family!”

“Had a family,” Moon corrects, “dead, now. No dignity. Who will they blame?”

The question gives him pause. Surely there was a better way to go about this, a solution that didn’t have his morals (and wires, for that matter) all up in a twist. Yet the longer he thinks about it, the more he realizes Moon is right. Management hardly listens when he tries to explain that it was the children who broke a piece of playground equipment, not him! They aren’t likely to give his explanation of simply having found the body any mind, much less understanding. With his counterpart practically admitting to the heinous act, already, informing management of the body would sooner see them decommissioned.

“Running out of time,” Moon reminds him, “Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick–”

“Alright, alright!” He wails, “What should I do, then?”

“Clean up.”

“Where?” Sun looks around with the desperation of a teenager attempting to play hooky, rays practically nonexistent with how he’s tucked them away. His eyes search the room from top to bottom before landing determinedly on the ball pit.

“Good enough,” Moon tuts, a rather uninspired response to the happenings around him. Of course he isn’t panicking, it isn’t him who takes the body by its ankles and drags the dead weight across the carpet. It isn’t him who shoves aside enough plastic to carefully hide a corpse in. But it should be him worrying, it should be him panicking, because if management finds out about their secret, it’ll spell doom for both of them.

“You’ll get rid of it – him – properly once there’s no one around, right?” Sun finishes reshuffling the ball pit, mostly confident that the ill deed is successfully hidden from view. “I’m going to have to wash each and every one of these balls before the kids arrive in the morning.”

Right, the kids. When they arrive in just a few hours, will he have things tidied up? Will he be able to carry on as though nothing happened? He’s a brilliant actor – or he used to be, anyway, before the company decided he better fit the role of a nanny – but this is well beyond the scripts he is most familiar with.

“They’re close,” Moon warns him, “Don’t let them see–”

“I know, I know.” No time to dwell on it now, he makes quick work of crossing the distance between the ball pit and the exit, and manages to slide his head and torso through the gap between doors within seconds of it opening, scaring the living daylights of the poor employee sent to greet him in the process.

Unlike Sun, they do swear, clutching a hand over their chest and fitting him with a downright awful deadpanned stare. “Fuck, you couldn’t have waited a few seconds longer for me to come inside?” They hiss.

“Sorry, friend! Didn’t mean to spook you,” Sun chirps. He is careful to keep his bloodied hands safely tucked behind his back. “It’s just a mess in here, is all, and I’m rather embarrassed. There’s still equipment to clean, toys to organize, papers to fold–”

“Sure,” the employee interrupts, “It doesn’t really–” they pinch the bridge of their nose, exhaling with notably less exhaustion than Sun is feeling right about now, “I don’t particularly care. What’s the big issue that I was called down here for?”

“Oh! I just wanted to know if the next shipment of wipes had come in, yet. Like I said before, much to do! Always busy, busy, busy!”

Their stare turns into an outright glower. “That’s why you called the emergency line? For cleaning supplies?”

Sun shrugs, feigning ignorance. “Well, that’s an emergency to me. Apparently our standards are not the same.” He watches them roll their eyes with more enthusiasm than necessary. ”Do you know how messy children can be? It’s practically a barnyard in here, every single day, and don’t even get me started on how much of a health code violation it would be if one of them were to pick their nose and then–”

“Fine, I get it,” they snap, “I’ll make sure your damn supplies are delivered before the daycare opens. Anything else?”

“Told you they were annoying,” Moon chimes in.

“That’s everything!” He replies, “thank you a mighty amount, friend!”

“Mhm,” they mutter, waving him off with nothing more than the noncommittal sound. When they do turn to leave, it’s not soon enough, and Sun just barely manages to close the door with a whisper instead of a slam.

His back rests against it a moment later, and he allows himself to collapse from there, sliding down the smooth wooden frame until his tailbone reaches the floor. His knees twinge as they tuck against his chest, and he folds both arms atop, resting his temple against them and taking one long, much needed moment to just breathe.

It had only been half of a lie. There was much to do, much to clean, and only so many hours remaining to get it done. The wires nestled deep in his chest had calmed, yet the tremor in his hands continued, as it likely would until the very last speck of blood was washed clean.

“…Moon?”

“Hm?”

Sun tucks his knees ever closer. “Why…why did you do it?”

“…”

“I w-won’t be mad, promise! I’m sure this is all just one big misunderstanding, after all – a one time event, no biggie! But…was it out of anger? Fear? I mean, did he hurt–”

“In my way,” Moon replies.

Sun’s head lifts from the dark haven his arms provide, noting with growing exhaustion that, for the very first time, the lights felt too bright even for him. “What do you mean by that?” He asks, “Did he keep you from doing something?”

“…I don’t know.”

Again, Sun’s head falls against his arms in defeat, and again, not two seconds later, it lifts, determined not to lollygag any longer.

His legs creak with vocal effort as he gets back to his feet. “Well, no point in dwelling on it now, I suppose. I’m sure it’s nothing.” He takes in a wide view of the daycare – static trailing everywhere – and deflates with a sigh. “Guess I better get started. The sooner we get the place cleaned up, the sooner we can forget about all of this.”

He takes a step forward, and only that, swiveling on his heel when he catches last night’s roster from the corner of his eye. A single drop of static had landed and smeared across the name of a child meant to go home later in the evening.

Strangely enough, it appears they were never picked up.

Sun shrugs, gathering the paper in both hands and crumpling it into a ball to dispose of the smeared evidence. A simple mistake with the roster, that’s all it is. The parents often forget to sign their name after all. Accidents happen all the time!

The paper lands with a soft thunk in the nearest trash can and is just as quickly forgotten. Sun pivots towards the play area once more and heads for the supply closet, steadfast in his determination to be cleaned up on time, and feeling more confident than he ought to be about how things ended, all things considered.

More than anything, he is just happy to have all of this behind them.

[saminthea]

Anyone else completely obsessed with the new Enola Holmes movie? Like I was fully expecting a fun, pseudo historic pop feminist romp and instead I got...

"Hey big companies are corrupt and *will* straight up kill people for profit. And also the system is really ill equipped to deal with that kind of corruption, the best and often only way to instill change is through worker's collective action."

Which is like. Good soup!

On top of that the Holmes' mom is part of a group that destroys property in protest for women's rights, and it's treated like, morally quirky at worst? Most media with these types of characters pull the "you're just as bad as your oppressors for resorting to violence" bs. But here it's just "yeah, that's Mom lol!"

Also basic no think bonus points for actually including dark skinned black women. Lots of modern 'diverse' historical fiction has a lot of trouble with that.

Also can I just gush about how much I *adore* this iteration of Moriarty? She's so well portrayed with that perfect "smarter than everyone in this room, life's a game, let's play" vibe. She's suave and soft spoken and so obviously delighted by having found a 'worthy' opponent in Sherlock. I can't wait to see her again.

Also it might be the lingering middle school Sherlock fangirl in me but when they introduced Dr. John Watson I just about *screamed*.

Overall, A+ movie. Thoroughly enjoyed myself and I didn't even have to turn my brain off to do it.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Quite Fond

ALASTOR X READER Summary: You are fond of being friends with Alastor and he with you. Except both of you are maybe a touch too fond. Warnings: NONE. Part of prequel to Only for You(along with Hazbin Having Blues) and for my lovely @anon-of-the-void. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!! please, I need something to stimulate my brain that isn't thoughts of ponytail Alastor

Alastor, the charming radio demon from the depths of Hell, and you, a spirited individual with a penchant for mischief, had a history as tumultuous as the chaos swirling around the underworld. Once bitter enemies, you now found yourselves in an unexpected alliance of sorts, sharing moments of camaraderie that defied the fiery nature of such a demonic existence. The dynamic had shifted over time, evolving into a peculiar friendship that surprised even the denizens of the underworld.

One gloomy evening, Alastor invited you to his lavish radio tower, a place where often the air was filled with the nostalgic tunes of yesteryears(if not also the screams of miserable wretches who dared to disrespect the Radio Demon). As you both chatted and listened, if the radio demon was feeling reminisce, a bit of dancing also occurred. 

The peculiar structure that was the radio tower pierced the dark sky of the infernal landscape and was quite up there, you internally cursed your red monocled friend on the “climb” to the summit. 

Entering through the metal door, the room echoed with the timeless melodies from the record player, creating an atmosphere that transcended the chaos outside. Transporting you back to an era long past, the room was adorned with antique furniture, and the soft glow of vintage lamps along with Alastor’s typically radio equipment. 

Taking your normal place on a plush velvet chair that Alastor had magiced for you one day, you soon found you had engrossed in the soothing notes of a jazz record with the Radio Demon himself. As the music played, the tension of the day melted away, replaced by an unspoken understanding that transcended previous animosity. This had become the routine. You and Alastor would sit and listen to the tunes of the past that suited both your fancy. Overtime, conservation was eventually struck and you became a pair of unlikely friends. Even going so far as to accompany one another on outings, store runs, or simply things around the Hotel; the other members of Hazbin Hotel soon noticed that both of you were almost attached at the hip. Yet when asked, either of you would fervently deny it. 

Clearing his throat, when a particular number that suited his fancy came on, Alastor offered you his hand. 

“Care to share a dance, darling?”

“Only if you keep your hands to yourself, radio head.”

“My mother did raise me to be quite the gentleman, my dear.” 

Taking his hand carefully, you rose from your chair and joined him in a dance. Swinging and swaying rapidly to the music, it felt like it took over your soul. As the rhythm picked up, so did your steps till the both of you could have been considered for ‘Dancing with the Stars’.(You did not mention this to Alastor, who would not have known whatever show it was that played on the “infernal technological device”)

As the soulful tunes of a bygone jazz age filled the air, Alastor and you found yourselves swaying to the rhythm, all forgotten in the magic of the moment.Alastor, dressed in his signature dapper style, looked at you with an impish grin. 

"Ah, Y/N, who would have thought we'd be sharing such delightful company? Enemies turned compatriots, dancing to the tunes of the past."

Smirking, you continued, twirling around the room, "Well, Alastor, Hell does freeze over sometimes. Or at least, we manage to turn the heat down a bit."

The playful banter continued, each taking jabs at the other's demonic tendencies, whether that be specific dining tastes or fashion items; the atmosphere was filled with laughter, a rarity in the underworld. But, it was always like this with you and Alastor. The music, the banter, you getting so dizzy on joy and dancing you might have considered yourself dead twice. You could swear seeing Alastor’s real smile during these moments but you would always shake the thought away. Why would Alastor, the feared Radio Demon, indulge in things such as yourself for anything other than amusement? It couldn’t be so. 

Little did you know, as all these many nights unfolded, Alastor's charismatic façade began to crumble even to himself. He came to quite like your fiery spirit, one that rivaled him. The way your hair would fall perfectly around your face, how your eyes told so much and would sparkle with joy or mischievious depending on your mood. You hung onto his every whim and had found no fault in his eyes, well maybe except that you like to flaunt yourself around certain men. That he hated…for reasons that still boggled him. Like somehow he would prefer all your attention to himself. These thoughts often hurt his head and confused his black heart, so he too, pushed it to the side. 

"Y/N, you truly have a way of making this Hellish existence a tad more bearable," Alastor admitted, his usual confidence faltering for a moment.

You chuckled, taking his comment for a lead up to another usual quip. "Who would've thought the radio demon had a soft spot? You're not fooling anyone, Alastor."

"You know, Y/N," Alastor began, his tone softer, "despite our initial differences, I find myself rather... fond of you."

Your eyes widened, a mix of surprise and realization crossing your face. Tripping over your feet, you ran back into the record player which crashed onto the floor. Silence now flooded the radio tower, both of you looking at each other in surprise. 

“You…you are fond of me?”

“I did not stutter my dear. I find your company…more tolerable than most.” 

“Alastor…I–I am not sure I am getting this.” 

With a sigh but still any ever present smirk, that did look a little strained, Alastor continued. 

“I am not one for feelings. However, you make Hell a bit better than most and I feel…some form of feeling for you dear.”

 It was then that you, almost as if compelled by the whims of the silence and his words, hesitantly reached out your hand toward Alastor. The demon, surprised yet strangely pleased, extended his hand in return. Fingers intertwined, creating a connection that transcended the bounds of friendship. The warmth of the moment lingered in the air, and the room seemed to hold its breath as Alastor and yourself awkwardly found themselves holding hands.

“I..am fond of you too Alastor.”

A moment of silence enveloped them before laughter erupted once more, a newfound understanding blossoming between two souls that once clashed in the fiery depths of Hell. With a small snap of his fingers, the record player rejuvenated and continued to spin, and as the vintage tunes serenaded the unlikely pair, Alastor and Y/N found solace in the unlikeliest of…relationships. 

Unbeknownst to the pair, the crash of the record player after the loud chaotic sounds of their dancing had been heard below by your fellow Hotel patrons. Charlie looked concerned, Husker continued to clean the bar seemingly unbothered, Angel Dust sat smirking on a barstool, Vaggie was comforting Charlie’s worries, Nifty was worried about the poor dirty state of the radio tower, and finally Sir Pentious was ready to storm the tower to defend you both.

“So ah…ten bucks they both totally fucked.”

A chorus of “ANGEL!!” rose up but then…

“Yeah, I’ll take that bet.” “Sure.” “Oh, does that mean Alastor will be participating in group activities now?!” “Charlie, I am not sure you know what is going on.” “BUGS!! THEY ALL MUST DIE.” “I for one do not appreciate the ssssselling of Ms. Y/N's good name but my gosh, the tension isssss there.” 

All were sorely disappointed, with Husk winning a good sixty dollars.

[gryffinwrites]

My Y/N (Female Farmer) x Harvey Fanfic Just Hit 20 Chapters, Here Are My Harvey/SDV Headcanons:

IB: @pierperian-leisure's post on dating harvey headcanons (some of them are so similar to what I pictured when I started this FF, I just love that we all have the same Harvey in our head and hearts 🥰)

For reference: The fanfic is called You Hate Harvey, a silly hate to love story full of banter and tension.

∙ Harvey's anxiety displays in different ways. Sometimes he is the stuttering/blushing version you see in SDV, sometimes he is grumpy and speaking condescendingly when you've put yourself in danger. When Harvey panics, it is freeze first, flight second, and lastly, occasionally, mostly with you, fight.

∙ Though he can maintain a solid bedside manner with all his other patients, Harvey doesn't hide his emotions very well from you. If he's irritated, he's pinching the bridge of his nose. If he's nervous, he's wiping his glasses on his shirt. If he's frustrated (sexually, more often than not) he his shoving a fist into the messy volume of his hair.

∙ Elliott is the best friend Harvey has ever had. They're very different on paper, but as a writer Elliott brings an empathetic energy that equips him to understand Harvey better than anyone ever has before. For that reason, Harvey can accept the bolder parts of Elliott's personality that draw more public attention than he's typically comfortable with.

∙ In the bedroom and the clinic alike, Harvey just wants to take care of you. He's very much a giver, and his favorite thing is to put his medical degree to good use and employ his anatomical knowledge for your pleasure. Before you even first got together, he secretly fantasized all the ways he could kiss and make it better.

∙ Harvey was terrified of you when he first met you, fearing how much he wanted to be with you. But his second, and most secret, fear was that he would never get what he wanted most and would someday have to watch you settle down with another eligible bachelor. Sometimes he convinces himself you would be better off in that instance. Even after you're together, seeing how much the other bachelors equally admire you will occasionally fuel the self-deprecating thoughts in his head.

∙ Harvey had his heart broken in college when, as she left him, his girlfriend insulted his mustache. Since then, he always wondered if he would ever find someone who accepts him for all he is.

∙ Harvey's parents died from a car accident when he was young. It's why he cares so deeply about your safety and has nightmares about losing you, another person he loves.

∙ Though it was initially traumatic, the hospital visit incited his interest in medicine.

∙After they passed, Harvey was raised by his grandparents. For that reason, Harvey has a soft spot for George (even when he's yelling at him in an appointment.)

∙ Harvey's grandfather was a pilot back in the day, and the reason why Harvey still loves planes so much and once contemplated following in his footsteps.

∙ When Harvey drinks too much at the saloon, he lets loose and all his inhibitions slide away and he's all about sneaky PDA. He'll undo his tie, unbutton his shirt a little, and try and get away with sliding a hand up your thigh. Or, he'll motion for you to follow him into the barrel room.

∙ Though Harvey tried to keep your budding romance a secret, Maru immediately suspected something had changed when he would throw his office door open the moment he heard a voice in the lobby to ask if it was you. He would also hum as he worked. A lot.

∙ Harvey and your grandfather were close, as he reminded him in a way of his own grandpa. He would often go over to the farm and play cards to keep him company. During these visits, your grandfather would talk about you often, showing him photos of you in university and at your big corporate job in Zuzu City. Even then, knowing so little about you and never imagining he'd ever meet you, Harvey started to develop a bit of a crush.

∙ Harvey secretly has a very impressive singing voice. It was strengthened over years of listening to jazz albums in medical school, subtly singing along and emulating the crooner's voices as he studied. The only person who has heard him sing is Elliott, and it was after so much wine the writer barely remembers it.

∙ When Harvey is feeling full-hearted, he gives off giddy golden retriever-energy. His smile becomes boyish, he freely jokes around and messes with you, and he is very physically affectionate.

∙ It may be Elliott's influence, but Harvey can be very articulate on his devotion to you... it's just a shame that for so long, those expressions of ardent admiration were simmering under the surface, cloaked completely by his nervously-blurted blunders.

Some of these have been covered in the story already, some of them are yet to be uncovered.

What do you think?

[yourstory-teller]

The ramos one could be something like how he is breaking ankles and injuring people on the field but around the girl he likes he is all soft and sweet, his teammates can't believe it is their same aggressive teammate

Hey bb, thank u sm for requesting!! I'd never written for him before, but it was fun, even though I don't know if I really like this lol

But I promise you I did my best. Hope you enjoy it ♡

Tame the beast

Part of the players were moving in a frenzy. It was normal for this kind of thing to happen during a game, it was to be expected. There were just some people who crossed the line, or got really, really close to it. Some would say close enough to start something.

Ramos walked incessantly towards an opposing player, forehead pressed against his, while the other man kept stepping backwards, trying hard not to trip. "The fuck do you think you're talking to? Huh?" His voice changed considerably at times like this, so much so that even his own colleagues feared the things that he could do. After all, whatever happened to him could harm the entire equipe.

What happens is that, during a play, the Spaniard had made a tackle that directly hit the opposing player's ankle. After that, instead of helping him up, or apologizing, he scoffed, as the other laid down on the grass, complaining of pain. Obviously, the guy wasn't very pleased.

Some of both men's teammates moved to intervene and, after much painstaking, managed to pull them back. Sérgio mouthed an "Hijo de puta", before walking away. Well, it could be much worse, honestly.

Perhaps less than an hour later, everyone had already moved to the dressing rooms. The buzz was loud and between laughs, jokes and screams it was almost impossible to actually hear each other.

Neymar was the first to miss his friend. In the midst of what they insisted to call a conversation, he discreetly nudged mbappe and leaned in to speak close to the boy's ear. "Where's Ramos?" he asked, then saw Kylian move his head to look around the room, just like he'd done a few moments earlier. "He's been away for a bit, right?" "Right." And with a kind of unspoken agreement, they both got up and started walking towards the back of the room, close to the lockers. 

When they were already farther away from the shouting of their mates, a much more subtle and smooth voice could be heard. And when I say smooth, I mean smooth. It sounded eerily like someone speaking a few good octaves higher than what they would usually sound like, like when you're talking to a baby, or a dog.

It took them a while, but they gradually did recognize that voice. "Is this-" Kylian started, but the older man was quick to bring a hand over his mouth.

"I know, honey, I'm sorry, but he started it!" Sergio sounded like a kid being scolded and the two secret listeners did everything they could not to burst out laughing. What a time to be alive.

"I miss you too, baby. But I'll see you soon, right?" This time, the tone used was much lower, almost pleading. He most definetely sounded nothing like the number four they had just seen and heard out on the pitch. It was almost ridiculous to imagine that it was the same man.

"Okay, anjo, I'll call back later. Love you." Ney's eyes widened and he quickly grabbed his friend by the arm to avoid being caught snooping around.

That's when they noticed. Glorious moment.

To say that they laughed about it again and again and again, was an understatement. Neither of them spoke about that with the others, but they didn't need to, anyway. They would eventually find out themselves.

As said, Sergio got to see you not long after that. You had gotten a few weeks off and, of course, would spend as much of that time as possible in the company of your handsome boyfriend. You had arranged everything, every little detail together, and his anxiety was almost palpable, even over the phone.

So, like the hopeless romantic that you were, you decided to surprise him by arriving a few days early. It was cliché and could be very predictable, but you still hoped he wouldn't suspect a thing. He didn't. When you showed up that day, right after a match his team had emerged victorious from, he was as incredulous as you imagined he would be, perhaps a little bit more.

You calmly walked over to your boyfriend while the others were still busy cheering around. He was standing still, seemingly in disbelief of the fact that you were actually there, within reach, for the first time in a while, too fucking long, if you asked him. But when you were just a few steps away, looked like it finally hit him and Sergio was immediately grabbing you into the tightest, warmest embrace, that you missed so much.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of being at home.

When you pulled away, just enough to look into his eyes, he stared back with such apparent adoration, that it made you dizzy. Your foreheads now rested together, his lips brushing against your trembling ones. And as he whispered how much he loved you and that he had no idea how he managed to endure all this time away from you, you could feel his tears flowing down your own cheeks.

That's when everyone noticed.

After that, the other players teased him to death. Light hearted jokes, of course, even though sometimes they did carry a hint of envy. Whistles and kissing noises, but it just didn't bother Ramos. The only reaction he'd show was an eye roll and, occasionally, a slight blush that took over half of his face.

"So, Ramos, is she going tonight?" Marquinhos asked, eyebrows dancing suggestively. "We know she's going, he can't even breath without her" "He's whipped, doesn't even deny it"

It would be impossible for you to realize that there really was such a big difference between Sérgio Ramos on the field, and Sérgio Ramos when he was in your company. To other people, however, this discrepancy seemed more than obvious.

Of course, he wasn't really a violent person in everyday life, at all. He was a serious person and somewhat closed off, sometimes even frowning, but not violent. On the field, however, it was a completely different story. When he wore the team's shirt, his presence on the field was nothing short of threatening, in many ways. Sérgio was a great player, fast, skillful, but, above all, an aggressive player. And this was the man the team was used to.

Maybe that's why it was so shocking for them, seeing the two of you together.

Right after a tough workout, or another bitter defeat, which wasn't uncommon playing for PSG he would crawl into your open arms and completely melt, like putty against you.

"It's amazing" You'd hear a whisper, coming from, you just knew, probably Neymar. "She tames the beast." It took a lot of effort and a maturity that you definitely didn't have, for you not to chuckle.

It was funny, yes, but also flattering and, in a way, gratifying, to know that there was a side of him that was kept just for you, and no one else.

"Come on, babe, we're gonna have fun." Your grip around his waist was tight and you moved so that your chin was resting on his chest.

While spending the season with him, you learned that it was common for the players to gather after some more intense training sessions or a few matches, sometimes to celebrate, sometimes to lift their spirits and feel more invigorated to get back to the fight. These weren't really parties, but more like get-togethers, albeit relatively ostentatious and considerably eventful.

"We can have fun here!" You sighed, despite the smile that made its way to your lips. "I know, but we're gonna have plenty of time to stay here. Please, love." You insisted once more, giving him your best attempt of some puppy eyes, but he'd always been better than you in these type of things. He sighed and rested his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes.

You found yourself smirking as he looked back at you, an amused glint in his brown orbs, which now looked almost black. It all happened so fast and you honestly don't know how, but in a second Sergio was hovering over you, strong arms pinning yours against the mattress. It was easy to notice how there was still so much care and delicacy in how he held your wrists.

"Fine" He lowered his head until his lips were ghosting against the corner of your mouth. "But after that, it's gonna be just us. In this room. For a long time." You couldn't control the giggle that rumbled through your ribcage. "Si señor."

[indoorplaygroundequipment]

IAAPA Asia Expo 2024 - booth 1019

We are exhibiting at the #IAAPA Asia show. Come visit us at booth 1019 to discover and see our new #AngryBirds Interactive & Gamified Attractions products. As family entertainment center specialists, we can't wait to share our latest innovations with you!

[cattonicdragon]

Love you stuff man could do bendy Alice poppy nightmare chica and marinette with a ghost reader that can manipulate electronic stuff please =]

Alice,poppy,bendy,nightmare chica and marionnete/puppet x ghost reader who can interact with electronics

Eeeeee I'm very glad you enjoy my content!,of course I can!

Alice angel

Alice has been in the studio for a very long time so It wouldnt be surprising is she came across some ghosts

However it wasnt until she saw you interacting with a faulty projector that got her interest piqued

She cant do anything to you and dosnt see you as a threat,so shes relatively passive around you

As long as you dont pop up when shes doing something important than she dosnt mind your presence

She tells pity for you after finding out you. Cant interact with anything that isn't electronic/mechanical

You can also interact with lights etc

Sometimes you both scare intruders together,whilst you flicker the lights she scares the living daylight out of them

She adores having soft moments with you

Since you can fuck around with the projectors you have alot of movie dates

Poppy

Poppy also inhabits a place where ghost sightings probally arnt irregular

After the factory is abandoned and she's freed she finds many strange things happening

Like seeing you messing around in a room full of electronics,you made a boogie bot play never gonna give you up,a old computer blue screen,and currently screwing with an old peice of machinery

You give her alot of company,considering that fact your the ghost who's stayed around her the longest and she cant risk any of the other toys due to some obvious things.

She likes to watch you mess with electrical equipment in Hope's she can find out how you can do it

You sometimes possess a inactive boogie bot to stroll with her and talk,this way it gives you a somewhat solid form

It's also the only way she can interact with you when doing things like holding hand or hugging

Bendy

Since the studio is his realm theres not a very high chance he wouldnt know about the presence of a ghost

The first time he saw you he did try to attack you,no ghosts can interact with the electronics and machinery,so why can you?

Hes very confused and watches you from a far the majority of the time

If you leave a movie playing on a discarded projector he'll watch it through

Bendy at first dosnt want to approach you as he thinks that if he grows to bond and "like" you then he will become weak

Once eventually talking to you thought it's not to bad,its just the initial meeting goes horribly

Hes very rude at the start throwing insults or trying to bring you down,like you arnt already dead🙄

But once getting past that it's all good

He dosnt need to protect you because your dead so its 1 less problem for him

He likes watching short films or horros,he cant sit still for extremly long movies,he prefers it short and action packed.

He likes giving you different things around the studio to see what you can and cant manipulate

Nightmare chica

She trys to hunt kids and kill them,so ghosts are expected

She dosnt expect to see you messing around with CCs toys and making him cry,she hadnt even attacked yet

You dislike her apon first meeting,you played with the toys to scare the child not kill him,these animatronics were doing the opposite of what you were

After learning their intentions you mess with stuff around the house,one time accidentally waking up the parents

You eventually talk it out,but that's only after a loooonnnnngggg time of back and forth

She will ask on the odd occasion if you can help scare the kid,whether you do or not is up to you though

Will watch TV with u if theres a good program on etc

You can prank the other nightmares by controlling them to,works 9/10

If you can take on a terrifying form she will 200% ask you to scare kids with it,and to just show her in general

You both make cupcakes together and she eats them,how?🤷‍♀️

Marionette/puppet

Shes dealt with souls/ghosts before but has never seen one that can manipulate electronics

Shes very intrigued

Due to her usually calm nature you both get along amazingly

Sometimes you play a prank ok the guard and make the prize corners camera go staticy,good luck nightguard

If she finds a spare suit shell ask you if you want to possess it

You like to mess around with the lights during and show and even one time made Toy Bonnie's guitar go out of tune,the show that he played later didnt go very well

You fuck around with the night guards monitor and camera alot,sometimes even turning off the office lights

Marionette likes to give little gifts to you and even has a little corner in her box designated for you

After hours hanging out

I apologize that this is so short I wasnt a whole lot sure what to do

[fairy-isa]

!Surprise date!

Paring(s): Dean Winchester X F!reader

Summary:Dean decides that after the past week of back to back cases and long hours of research as well as barely any time to really focus on each other. He will to treat you for a date. But not just any date a surprise date. but most importantly to get away and enjoy each others company

Tags:Slight pampering, Pet names, Personal attention, gentle love, surprise, Fluff and F!reader.

Word count: I don’t fucking know😍🪽✨

The outfit your wearing:

You and Dean just had the worst week possible.

Constant cases and long hours of researching on Sam’s laptop. The search bar filled of searches on the topic of bad omens, legends , mystical beings. And of course their being a bunch of confusing drama on angels and demons that needed to get straightened out. Frustration, focus, as well as a bit of anxiety were the emotions of the past week. Due to the cases you and the others had to put up with.

So Dean decided to treat his sweet little princess to a date but it’s not just any old date it’s somewhere you’ve been dying to go back to but haven’t been abled to due to constant moving around, motel to motel. he knows you’ll be very happy once he reveals the surprise. It’s perfect since he just got an off day in what seems like forever its refreshing, being able to pull away from the chaos of the cases and the supernatural life. But it’s even more refreshing that he’s spending it with you, the person he loves so much.

You’re sitting in his car looking out the window of his black impala known as ‘baby’ Enter the sand man by Metallica plays. Even tho you don’t really like loud music it some how is stilling you in this moment making you appreciate the little things like how warm the atmosphere feels as well as how comforting and fresh the car smells after the deep clean you and Dean gave the car a while back, holding that somewhat clean smell still.

In the back of your mind you’ve been sitting in silence wondering for almost half of the car ride where he’s taking you he still has yet to tell you but you just figure it’s..probably just to go run some errands or to get some new equipment. Metallica still plays loudly in the car almost blowing your ear drums out as he hums to the lyrics and drums his pointer fingers on the top of the stirring wheel here and there when the drums in the song goes solo.

He then looks over at you and then back at the road he turns down the music a bit. Then speaks to you in his deep husky voice.

“You okay princess..?..has the music blow your ears out yet..?” He says in a teasing joking way with a wide smirk on his face proud that the music can possibly be heard from all fifty states.

“I’m okay…Dean?…I forgot to ask but I just remembered…I was wondering where we are going..”

You speak in that sweet soft voice of yours being all curious as always you watch as deans green eyes look over at you as he says “can’t tell you princess…it’s a surprise..”

What does he mean he can’t tell you he always tells you where you both are headed all the time so this time seems a little odd of him to come out of no where with a random surprise but you just decide that you’ll leave it be and leave him alone for now.

You’ve been in the car for at least about a good 45 minutes, now you’ve been talking with Dean about certain topics. About memories or his memories with his brother Sam, places you guys wanna visit, things you wanna see along road trips.

Yet you start to feel really hungry your soft tummy growling you can’t help but place your hand on your stomach and slightly groan in a way signifying your in a light pain of hunger. “Dean…are you almost there..?..it’s been already 45 minutes” You speak in tone almost sounding like your urging him to drive a little faster by how hungry your getting. “Be patient doll face we’re almost there..” he says as he then makes a turn. And with that turn your eyes widen at the sight..it’s your most favorite bakery. The bakery you’ve been dying to go to for so very long!

“You really drove all the way here just for me..?..!!” You say in a sweet, excited tone. Your feet start to excitedly tap on the floor of the car getting all excited to the point you can’t even contain yourself.

“No I did it cause I wanted pie..” he saying in a teasing manner before following up with “of course I did it for my special girl..why else would we be here?..” you can’t help but giggle as you get all happy. He drives into the park lot while your basically rushing him to find a parking spot just so you can go in a get all the sweets you want to get a sugar rush.

Once the car is parked you walk out of the car running over to Dean getting on your toes ever so slightly to reach his cheek and give him a glossy glittery he returns a big great smile you then say a happy “your the best boyfriend ever Dean!” You say almost jumping up and down but you contain yourself. Dean gives a blushy smile almost like a little kid on Christmas Day repeating what you said. “I’m the best boyfriend ever..” he says but gets cut off by you quickly grabbing his hand and rushing into the bakery to get the sweets you’ve been craving for far too long.

You both go into the bakery pushing past the door as it hits a bell above it and makes a jingle sound, going over to one of the tables as you sit looking all cute your pupils dilating at all the pastries on display he can’t help but raise a little hand to your cheek caressing his thumb on the apple of your cheek which then catches your attention looking up at him.

“Your so precious doll you know that..?…order whatever you want..okay?..it’s on me don’t worry about it sweetie” you giggle and tilt your head into his hand “thank you Dean..!..I love you so much..” you reply back with in a grateful happy tone

“Love you more baby..” he says in a deep husky tone.The waiter comes by and gets you guys ready with some drinks.You both order milkshakes but of course you get a strawberry one and he gets a chocolate one. Throughout the date you guys are trying all the pastries all these different cakes Dean making slight groan sounds when he takes a certain flavor and it hits his souls.

Once the date comes to a stop both of your guys bellies full walking back into the car and getting in your hand resting on your adorably full belly, you let out a sigh and say “thank you dean…m’so sleepy now but the cakes were really good..” he nods as he looks at you and then says “yeah baby the cakes were good but the pies where better..” you shake your head no as you then say “the cakes were better to me but whatever tickles your fancy I guess..!” He then giggles and shakes his head he leans over and kisses your cheek you then move your head slightly so your lips can kiss his. Two deep kisses of pure love he then pulls away and says

“surprise..baby I hope you liked our little date because I know I did” he said in that same lovey husky tone he moves a strand of hair behind your ear then placing one last kiss but this time on your temple you smile up at him as he then pulls away and starts the car.

[sasha199]

Gale/ Rolan Drama Part 12

Read all of me on A03

Mayhem and Madness

Okay BIG trigger warning for smut, like a lot of it. Fem Tav, human.

Y’all…this game hits different when your Tav is a stand in for yourself.

My sister and I are playing a multiplayer as ourselves, as sisters. I (Sasha) was romancing both Gale and Wyll. Sister (Marlie) is pulling both Astarion and Shadowheart

After a few hours of sleep I stir from my bedroll to go find Gale. I smile to see him waiting for me outside of his tent. As I draw near it's clear that he is illuminated by some sort of arcane light, also he doesn't appear to be breathing.

I approach stealthily, trying my best not to wake anyone, but when the Gale-like figure gives me a small wave, I halt in my tracks. It certainly looks like Gale, it's wearing the robe I purchased for him, it's got his bracers equipped, and the chain-link headband he's worn since the Githyanki creche is centered perfectly on his forehead. 

Then it speaks, "Good evening!" it exclaims cheerfully, there's an odd distortion around it's voice, as if two or three people are speaking simultaneously. "I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep..."

"Shhhhh! Keep it down, please!" I glance around, but there's no movement from the other tents. 

"He wishes," it continues in more of a whisper, "to extend you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale."

"So, just to confirm," I whisper back, "you're not actually Gale? What are you then?"

"A mere projection of Gale." It's stopped whispering despite my shushing motions, "I am a reconstituted version of his appearance, voice and...personality." It gives me a saucy wink, "Would you care to join him?"

"Yes, of course yes," Every moment that passes I become more sure that Marlie is watching from somewhere. The sooner I get out of here the better, "Where is he?"

"Simply follow yonder path and soon you will find him," it gestures vaguely to the east side of camp. 

"Gods I hope so," I say to myself. It would be so very me to get lost in a situation like this. Thankfully, Gale's footprints are clear and easy to read as I make my way out of camp and towards a large clearing to the north. As the trees open up to a grassy knoll I can see a light ahead. My confusion increases as it becomes clear this light is not a fire or a candle. It is emanating from the sky itself. Soon I see Gale, seated in the clearing. He's looking up, arms moving in graceful precise arcs. 

As I step out from the trees, he lets his arms fall, though the light remains. I can see the anticipation on his face, the barely restrained smile, and I'm happy I came. I take a seat next to him in the grass, and turn towards the heavens to admire his handy work. 

"I love this time of night," he says softly.

My face goes slack with wonder as I take in the enormity of what he's crafted in the sky. A gorgeous shifting symphony of blues and purples alights the heavens, graced with a sprinkling of stars. It's the aurora borealis. 

I just stare, captivated by the patterns of light and color, “...the most beautiful of fantasies." I am drawn out of my reverie by the soft tone of his voice. He’s looking at me, not the sky. The starlight is reflected in his eyes. I'm aching for him to touch me.

"It's - it's -" apparently I've lost my executive brain function. "I'm sorry," I say laughing at myself, "I'm overwhelmed. I've always wanted to see the Northern Lights. You did that?"

"Indeed," he sounds proud, "the curse is still present of course. Just beyond this veneer, held at arms length. Not a trick I can repeat often, but tonight? Tonight is different."

"Why?" A cold feeling of dread drapes over me. I try to ignore it but unbidden thoughts rise all the same.

Are we back here again?

"This may be my last night alive," he continues, "I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder..." He smiles at me, his eyes narrowing with mischief, sparkling with desire, "...and with company to match."

"How can you say that?" I refuse to be caught up in the moment, not when he speaks of his own death so casually. 

He takes my hand. I want to be spiteful, to pull away. How dare he. After all we've been through? He can just look me in the eyes and give voice to these terrible truths? 

"None of us are guaranteed time, Sasha. Not with the perils we are facing. The tadpoles, the Absolute, this Shadow Curse. Any of us could succumb to these dangers. No use pretending otherwise." 

I say nothing, he continues. "I thought this place, being under this sky with you, might bring me a sense of peace. I thought it might make the weight of what I must do, the responsibility I have been charged with, seem a little smaller. But now..." his face falls, he looks down at our hands, "now I am not so sure."

"I am." My voice is steal, hard, determined. "I've never been so sure. I refuse to believe this is the end." My grip on him is as intense as my voice. "We will find another way. I promise."

"Thank you, but.."

"No!" my voice cracks, and my throat starts to hurt, I swallow hard. "This will not be your fate, Gale. Fuck fate. Fuck the gods, and fuck...fuck it all." I'm fighting to keep the anger from spilling out of my eyes. 

He smiles at my flailing ferocity, my pitiful defiance. "Darling, there is no point running from the inevitable. Better to meet it, to face it, on my own terms."

"Nothing is inevitable, do you hear me? Not when we face it together. You are not alone, Gale. You don't have to die." My vision blurs, and a tear falls onto my wrist, it burns a little. The sky and the world around me become a watercolor scene of purples and blues. The only clear thing is Gale. 

He takes my wet face in his hands, I grip his wrists, desperate for him, desperate for him to see what I clearly know. 

This cannot be the end for us. 

"One night with you," his warms lips gently brush over my forehead, "could sate me for a life time."

"I don't want just one night."

He kisses my cheek, my ear, I cling to him, I breathe deep and dab at one eye with my palm. It stings. 

He murmurs into my neck "Whatever my fate, please know that you're sending me to meet it with a full heart, free from fear." His voice is heavy with sorrow, with sincerity. It’s killing me. "I'm so very glad you came, to share this with me."

I touch his face, feeling the smoothness of his skin, the rough contrast of his beard. I slip my hand into his hair, the brown and silver strands ease though my fingers, shining in the starlight. I trace the firm line of his jaw, his pulse throbs beneath my thumb, quickens as he takes a breath. 

"This must all seem unreal, but I created it for you."

“For me..?”

"You must know that you're..." My fingertips feel the groove in his neck, just above where the orb scars begin to deepen, "you're very special to me." 

I chew my bottom lip. My stomach is in knots. I tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. His earing glints at me. 

He puts his large hand over mine, stopping my progression at the top of his chest. There's a slight sting as his fingers brush over two red scratches. For a moment I freeze, my thoughts flash. I turn my head as if to shy away from it. But I can't.

"Gale." I hear myself say. I feel as if I'm slowly drifting away from myself, the world getting smaller and smaller as I soar off into the heavens, into the sky that Gale made for me. "Something happened today."

"Happened?"

"I- I kissed Rolan."

"You - who?" 

"Doesn't matter," I say quickly, "Something strange happened when I was trying to use the Weave and-"

"You kissed someone...?"

"Yes." I hate myself. I'm ruining everything.

"Well." His body language changes, he lets go of me and moves slightly, out of my reach. "I suppose," he says, after a moment, "you're not exactly beholden to me but I thought..." He ducks his head to meet my eye, and the intensity I see there scares me. "You told me... you said you chose me."

"Yes, I did." 

"Then what-"

"I'm telling you about this because I meant it, I choose you. Even now, with you going on about how death is waiting for you, how this is your fate, your tragic destiny. I- I couldn't sit here under this perfect sky and not tell you, because I want you, Gale. I've always wanted you, from the moment I slapped your hand in that stupid portal, and for more than just one night."

His eyes are large and round and sad. I feel like time has stopped. I can see us sitting together on this grassy knoll, merely inches from each other. My face is tear-streaked and desperate, Gale's is heart wrenchingly vulnerable.

"I'm in love with you." I hear myself say the words and it's like something inside me breaks. 

The moment stretches. My heart is pounding against my ribs, threatening to burst free. I kind of wish it would. Then suddenly he gives a small laugh. My stomach clenches. I feel sick as I look down at my lap. I swore to myself so long ago that I would never tell him, that I would never burden him with the depth of my feelings. I thought I was protecting him. But I see now, at the precipice, that I was just trying to stop myself from breaking my own heart. I've failed. 

I wrap my arms around myself. If I could I would sink into the earth. 

"What a relief," he finally says. I glance at him, afraid of what I'll see, but his gaze is...open. It's still soft but different, he looks lighter. Like a great weight has fallen away from him. “I was so afraid I was just making as ass of myself." He gently tucks back a curl that has fallen in my face "I'm hurt, that you felt the need to test the depths of your feelings, but to hear those words from your lips...I cannot pretend to be anything other than elated."

I laugh too then, and lean over to kiss him. I taste the salt on his lips from my tears, feel the tingling burn of the acidity.

”You must know,” He says when we break apart, “I am not a man who shares. Call me greedy, stubborn or old fashioned, but I cannot change who I am, or how I love. If you are mine, then you are mine alone.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have you any other way.” I'm pretty sure I'm crying again.

He stands up and I feel a little bereft, "I hope that wasn't a parting kiss." I sound childish, sulky.

"Not if I have any say in the matter," he chortles, pulling me to my feet. His smile is broad, like he can't hold it back. He kisses my forehead again and I nuzzle into him, wrapping my arms around his chest. "I want it to be perfect," he continues, "to bond with you in the way that gods do...intertwining our spirits in visions of the weave." 

"Um," that sounds a little intimidating to me, I'm not even sure what it means. "I don't really need illusions. You're here, standing right in front of me." I stand on tip toe to trail kisses along his neck, "And you already taste divine."

He tangles his hands in my curls, holds my head against his chest, but his voice is hesitant, "Are you sure? I can conjure up any sight that you could dream of, and a few you could not. I could use the Weave to make us feel sensations beyond reckoning..."

I sigh, "I don't think I trust the Weave."

He tilts my face up and touches my nose with his, "Then trust me. Let me do more than woo you. Let me wow you."

I chuckle into his mouth. "Alright. Wow me."

Gale's velvet voice paints a scene of his idyllic tower in Waterdeep; complete with a piano that plays on it's own and a sunset view of the infamous harbor.

It's been so long since I've seen it. I can almost smell the salty air and hear the wind whip the sails of the docked ships.

The day I'd enrolled in New Olamn, stepping off a boat fresh from Neverwinter to begin my training as a bard, I'd been so afraid but so full of hope. To think the tower I'd seen every day on the horizon had been Gale's. We'd been so close to each other. Perhaps I'd passed him in the street while shopping at the markets, or breezed through one of his classes on a tour of Blackstaff. We would've been entirely different people, such a strange thought.

I feel practically giddy as I take in the rows and rows of books lining the walls as he walks me through the interior. They're scattered on every surface. I settle into a comfortable alcove on his balcony and I pick the nearest one to flip through it. I feel my face go crimson as I take in the images, and look up to see Gale watching me, amused. "I see you've found the Art of the Night."

"Leave it you to seduce someone with a book," I turn it around to show him the page that I'm on, my eyebrows raised questioningly at the elaborate image of two people contorted in love making. "That rebellious streak of yours is admirable."

"Allow me to live dangerously while I still can," he smiles and settles next to me. I love when he teases me, I see a younger more optimistic version of him shining through in this moment. It's who he was before the orb, maybe even before Mystra, back when he might've been just Gale, and not Gale of Waterdeep. It tickles me to see it, to experience it.

I love him. 

"...the art of the body. The exploration and acceptance of the self and the other. I say we take a page from their book. What do you say?"

"Huh?" I snap back to the present, " Sorry...I was distracted by...by your face." I sound so dim witted, my cheeks are pink again. 

He puts his arm around me, pulls me into him, "Come here." As he kisses me I can hear his voice, like he's speaking to me through the tadpole connection, but somehow it's different, it's emanating from everywhere. "Why confine ourselves to the pleasures of mortal flesh? It is but one stitch in a vast tapestry."

I open my eyes to see everything is glowing. The tower around us is gone and it looks like we're in Gale's sky, surrounded by it. An endless cosmos that stretches infinitely. I hold my hand up to my face and I can see Gale through it. He's glowing too. Suddenly a memory rips through me, like a spike to the mind. A flash of bodies entwined, a faint whiff of rose water. Hearts pounding and breath quick with passion. I feel the pressure of something curled tightly against my leg. 

I blink and we're back in the clearing, back to the grassy knoll. Gale is standing next to me, holding my hand. "The old ways then. If that is what you wish, so be it." 

I swallow, moving hesitantly in the direction he gestures. Did he see? Does he know?

"Gale..?"

He makes a precise motion with his arm, "A small gesture towards you comfort."

I fall back, feeling a bed materialize beneath me. I'm already soaked. 

I pull him on down onto me, I need to feel him. I practically rip his shirt in my haste to unlace it, he chuckles pulling it over his head, but there is nothing funny about my desperation. He slots between my open thighs perfectly, our breaths mingle as we kiss and kiss again. He cups my breasts, slipping my leather top up to bear them. He looks at me, his eyes trace my body hungrily. "Beautiful." 

I smile at him and push his hair off his face. His hands rove down, tickling over my ribs to my waist. I tug on his earlobe with my teeth, reaching to shove his pants down. "Not yet, darling," he murmurs slipping his hands beneath the waist band of my trousers, "soon."

“Now," I whine as he pushes me back onto the bed, his large hand in the center of my chest, holding me down. His lips close around a nipple and heat shoots through my center,  "Gale, I can't wait anymore." I writhe under his ministrations, he's stroking me over my clothes. His fingers brushing against my clit over and over. 

"Interesting," he murmurs, leaving a hot wet trail with his tongue over my breast, "no panties?"

"No, never…” My voice shoots up an octave as he nibbles at my rib cage.

I push up against his hand to sit up, to look at him. 

"Naughty." The muscles in his arm tighten as he leans in, keeping me on my back. I wriggle with pleasure as he peppers my lower belly with kisses, his beard tickles me and my hips buck impatiently. He removes his hand to slide off my trousers and I use the opportunity to leap forward, I pull his face to mine for a deep kiss. 

"My love," he groans into my mouth, "my sweet love." His hand gently grazes the strip of hair that coats my womanhood. "Let me kiss you, darling." I let go of his face and watch as he takes my nipple into his mouth again. 

I wrap my fingers in his hair, "I can feel that..." I murmur. I don't know what I'm saying, I'm obviously beyond coherent thought. He moves to my other nipple and I moan as he slips a finger inside me. He swirls it slowly, feeling my walls. I toss my head back at the sensation, I'm gushing for him. Thank the gods this is not a real bed, I'm about to ruin it. 

When he puts his mouth on my clit I am trembling. He suckles softly, stroking me with his tongue as he inserts another finger. He hooks my knee over his shoulder and I grip the bed sheets as if I'm about to float away. When his tongue enters me I cry out, desperate for more. He licks the length of me, parting me, his fingers curling up and into me. The warmth is spreading from my core to my toes, to my finger tips…slipping in and out, while he worships me...

Sweet pressure is building behind my navel, I pant with the intensity of it, try to focus on the sensation...and then it snaps, like the taunt string of a bow, catching me off guard with the intensity. Back arched, I release against his mouth, blind with pleasure. He laps at me greedily, moaning into my cunt. I jerk up, away from him instinctively as I collapse back.

He kisses my thighs and I twitch feebly. I'm incoherent, numb with ecstasy as he moves back up and over me. "So lovely," he mutters into my ear. I feel him on my thigh as he lines up to enter me. 

I realize he's naked, "I want to see," I mumble lifting myself. I slide my hand between my thighs, covering myself with my own arousal before I reach for him. He groans as I wrap my fingers around his base, sliding the length of him.

"Shit, Gale." I look down, "Fuck, you're huge."  

He groans, "Stop that, I need to last."

"Why though?" I whisper increasing my speed, "I want to see you shatter, like the spell. Come apart all over me."

Our mouths interlock and he leans his hip into me, pushing gently at my entrance, "I'd rather come inside of you.” 

I guide him into me, he gasps as I bear my hips down and clench around him. "Then fuck me, wizard." 

And he is fucking me. He thrusts deep, angling and working his cock to hit the most tender parts of me. I lift myself up on my elbows, arching my back. He wraps his hands behind my waist and I feel myself rising, flying. He's looking down, watching himself enter me. "Oh, oh Gale! I'm coming!" 

I hate the way I sound, so desperate and needy, but I barely have time to register the words I'm saying before... He captures my mouth in a deep kiss as everything falls away and I'm at the mercy of my own pleasure. Cresting and crashing, I ride each wave as it takes me. I wrap my legs around him, hips grinding in time with his. He is pulsing and filling me.

Finally, Gale falls slack against me, sweaty and spent. He twitches inside me and I mewl in response. 

The weight of him feels so good, so right.

"I love you," his breath is soft and warm. He lifts his head from my chest, those brown precious eyes pierce me. "I'm so in love with you, Sasha."